


Sugary Sweet (Tiny Treat)

by Little_Guy



Series: You are My Sun, My Moon, and All My Stars [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horrortale (Undertale), Angst, Bad Puns, Fluff, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Horrortale Papyrus (Undertale), Horrortale Sans (Undertale), Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Knitting and Flower Tending as Hobbies, Mental Health Issues, Platonic Relationships, Possessive Behavior, Protective Sans (Undertale), Self-Esteem Issues, This is actually tame I just want to people to be safe, Trauma Recovery, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unreliable Narrator, implied/referenced eating disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:02:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23617210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Guy/pseuds/Little_Guy
Summary: Another squeeze at his hand this one warm as Sweetpea’s very core brightens under their blouse (they never could hide it anymore; the fragile, scarred, beautiful thing. But that was okay, Jaws would help protect it when Sweetpea couldn’t) a stunning green accompanying their walk to the register, “Go On, This One Is Nice. They’re Like Me,” they’re, his shoulders sag, he didn’t have to check them. That was… good.Awkwardly clearing his throat he gingerly sets the basket at the counter, his smile coming out lopsided and a little nervous, ‘um, g’morning?” He feels Sweetpea smiles down at him, another encouraging squeeze at his hand. “We uh, wanted to plant some of yer flowers but unfortunately we haven’t botany,” because yup. Nerves of steel untangled into puns and awkwardness as soon as he was out in public.
Relationships: Papyrus & Sans (Undertale)
Series: You are My Sun, My Moon, and All My Stars [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1700017
Comments: 9
Kudos: 16





	Sugary Sweet (Tiny Treat)

**Author's Note:**

> As usual i don't really know or care much for canon. These versions of the horrortale boys are very much a self-indulgent version of them for me to explore as i'd like to read them or try and create. Ht Papyrus is genderfluid in this and there is heavy usage of they/them pronouns for them. Secondly, there are quite a few 'cutesy' nicknames used by ht Sans in this, because of all the versions i think the big scary guy would use cute and/or sweet nicknames to describe the people he does get along with.
> 
> As for actual heads up warnings well, there are a couple. Ht siblings are definitely the least healthy dynamic wise, not due to any abuse or violence, but rather because they're very heavily dependent on one another which can be incredibly damaging, and i would like it be kept in mind that all of these are meant to be platonic. Other warnings include: possessive behavior, allusions to past/referenced animal abuse, quite a bit of food angst, referenced eating problems, issues with control, a very unreliable narrator due to mental health issues and amnesia. 
> 
> However, despite all of that this is not meant to be a heavy work and is instead very much focused on recovery glorification and individuals recovering from trauma. if i have some how missed something please let me know.

The light of the world (so bright, he’d always expected it to be  _ more _ . More fantastic, more welcoming, more… easy to reach and yet) starts to creep low at the edge of the city, rays subdued and lethargic as the laziest cat. He blinks, the action heavy and slow as he gets his bearings, eyelight focusing on the note in front of him.

Picking it up like one would a particularly fragile flower, Jaws traces the letters individually— movements as fluid and slow as a river with a singular slow course— until the picture grows. His jaw feels heavy as he wills the dredges of exhaustion away, “from sweetpea,” Ah. That was his little bro, Jaws would never forget that; it was still an appreciated addition. Anything from his baby bro was worth keeping locked tight in the creaky vault that was his head. “we have to go shopping in the morning. We’ll eat breakfast first, and talk about what we need.”

He reaches for his socket, an itch spurring him into trying to claw at his head as his eyes continue through the note, fingers stilling when he reaches the bottom, “remember your gloves will help with the scratching so you don’t hurt yourself.” He blinks again, bits and pieces of the fog lifting as he scans his… not bedroom… their living room. Jaws liked to stay in their living room when he couldn’t sleep; he remembered. Some days were better than others.

“There ya are,” His voice is as gravelly as he remembers it, perhaps a bit more husky than he remembered it being but still good ol’ him. Sans, or  _ Jaws _ as he’d been writing over and over until it finally  _ stuck _ something unable to be forgotten. His fingers twitch as he slides them on, a soft sigh exiting him as the gentle fabric encases him in a hug. “breakfast…” 

There’s no sound as he walks through their home (not home? The couch was all wrong, the windows weren’t broken, where _ was their home, where were they wasPapyrusokay?  _ Another blink, the grip he had on his note opening slowly; he was okay, sweetpea was okay, that was his writing; they were just… somewhere new. He scans the new room, built close enough to their kitchen (old? new?) that his shoulders sag, the joints for once not protesting as he moves.

The fridge door gives without the usual squeal, another note coming to view from where it’s stuck to a carton of milk. A  _ good  _ carton of milk, a delicacy in the usual barren underground. “We live in New Home.” new home… new home..  _ New Home _ . A grin twitches on his skull; they got  _ out _ . They’d survived and they were… still surviving. “We don’t set traps for food anymore, the humans—” his fingers tug at his socket, a harsh beating of his soul battering the inside of his ribs in panic as flashes of the  _ child  _ ricochet around him, no, no, no that wasn’t right. Sweetpea, he, he didn’t  _ lie _ couldn’t find it in him; if Jaws couldn’t trust his memory he  _ could  _ trust his baby brother. With a suck of air and a wobbly hand on their (new, it was their new home, in  _ New Home,  _ heh) counter he eases the grip on his socket until he extracts the whole thing. With them still twitching he returns his focus to the note (the note from  _ Sweetpea, Syrup, Pumpkin, his baby brother)  _ and reads on, the tension leaving him with every word. “—don’t hurt us anymore. I know, I know, episodes happen, they're okay, that's why we make this!”

That was right. They sat down every night and made notes for him just in case Jaws had a particularly rough day. “Thanks, pumpkin,” He murmurs, hands much steadier now as he gathers everything for pancakes. “Flax meal, water, almond milk… and apple cider,”

No more scrounging around for others. No more  _ hurting  _ others. Jaws sighs, rubbing the side of his skull gently to feel at the crack, it was healing. Slowly, and probably would take longer than a typical monster, and perhaps even not entirely, but it was. They had food now, could get it regularly, like they were supposed to some time today.

It’s only after he’s put the batter on the gridle that he gathers the blueberries, carefully adding them to each cake before moving them to a plate. “Sweetpea’ll be proud,” Jaws was pretty proud of himself, cooking was never his specialty but… he was awake, he wasn’t as nervous and he  _ remembered  _ this particular lesson after they bought a cookbook. “‘S perfect for a growing skeleton and a  _ famished  _ stomach.” He can’t even hold back the chuckle that bursts from him like a dam filled with far too much water; he could  _ joke  _ about it and not feel guilty!

Setting the table with a tiny smile and slow hands, he steps back to admire it all. The sun was the perfect setting piece at its current height; Jaws wished it would hang right there forever it was so welcoming when it was dull and warm. Instead of its usual anger and overbearing presence. His steps let out a quiet thump as he makes his way to the stairs, a calm finally settling over him.

“Hey, sweetpea,” He knocks, another quiet noise even in such a large home that it hardly echoes, careful to keep his feet planted outside until he’s given permission. They didn’t use to have it and now, Jaws was going to give his baby bro and himself everything they never had as long as he was capable. “‘S it fine for me to head in?”

Plus, sometimes his baby bro was a slower riser now that they both knew that they could sleep in if they liked. Puzzles could be done whenever, but a healthy sleep schedule would do them both some good after everything, even if his brother liked to complain sometimes. Ah, he should probably stop with the bro, even mentally? Sometimes sweetpea wasn’t feeling it.

He hums the rain song under his breath, the strain in his body disappearing when Sweetpea opens up, with a quick check he just nods at the simple message of  _ not feeling it today _ , “Would You Mind Helping?” It’s a ribbon, a soft blue and decorated with cute little hearts all over. Fitting for his cool baby sibling. “I.. I Can’t Tie It On My Own Still, Sorry.”

It’s mixed with that usual shy smile of Sweetpea’s that they never really could grow out of, even after growing up together and Jaws thinks that while being topside is nice.. Some things got worse. Sweetpea’s nerves were unfortunately one of them. They always were a bundle of nerves and anxieties, for plenty of things and interaction had always been tough. Who else did they have to talk to except their big brother? An equally big mess in his own way.

Giving the easiest smile he’s been able to in perhaps forever (because smiling around Sweetpea was _easy_. They were family, his little sibling and Jaws was many things _murder, slaughterer, no good_ but a bad sibling wasn’t one of them) his fingers slowly cooperate in a spinning motion, still so careful with his sibling even after being out. Jaws wasn’t stupid, he struggled with his memories and his temper, and he’d never forgive himself if he… if he was the reason something bad ever happened because his memory lapsed.

“Where’ya want it?” Another thing that stayed locked under key and teeth was that Sweetpea didn’t like to be touched without permission. It’s still foggy on why and Jaws thinks it was his bodies stupid way of trying to protect them both; what would he do if he remembered? But, that was for another time, Sweetpea was bending down, the back of their scarred spine showing. Another fuck up ( _ why couldn’t he protect them? Why wasn’t he strong enough? They had starvedstarvedstarved they were seen as scary, a threat _ — when Sweetpea at least was anything but… Jaws on the other hand…) teeth gritting, tight he focuses on the room to help clear his thoughts before he tied anything.

It was soft. Just like Sweetpea, warm colors, a soft lilac smell in every nook and cranny. This was their personal space and Jaws wanted to protect it and them with everything he had. He was a Monster with one saving grace. He would be a good brother, they didn’t have to do what they used to.

“‘Kay, pumpkin,” To others the nicknames were probably odd (and frankly, Jaws would always tell them to fuck off), but he’d used them every since Papyrus was small. Always so open, so  _ kind  _ even to the people that didn’t deserve it, too trusting. And all these things, well, they reminded him of his little sibling. And they just  _ stuck _ . Jaws doubted he’d ever really be able to give them up, though he wasn’t sure that Sweetpea would be happy if he did; they liked them to. They’d even thought of some for him. “Made breakfast for you, like ya said in the notes… figured i could uh, try out that recipe you showed me, y’know the uh, the pancakes?” what if he’d gotten it wrong?

Sweetpea whirls around, their grin wide as they bundle him into a hug (and  _ oh _ Jaws would never get tired of these rare hugs) their skull perched careful on his own as Jaws melts into the hold, his own hands carefully hovering, and then squeezing as tight as he dares. “I’m So Proud Of You Brother!” He grins, a nervous little thing as he rubs at the back of his skull, magic forcing itself into his cheeks even as he wants it to disappear; stupid limited control. He hoped it didn’t act up outside or Sweetpea would never let it go. “That Is An Improvement! Did You Sleep At All? I’ll Make Sure We Get Back In Time For A Nap, Just The  _ One!” _

He laughs, untangling himself from the hug (because he knows, he knows intimately about the Beast held behind the cage of his will. Jaws is not a good monster, he’s done so much that he doesn’t regret, that he would do over and over again, and has done whenever it came to Sweetpea’s and his safety) as the thought of  _ why don’t you just slot him into your rib cage and burn the world  _ flutters through his head. He had so many demons that urged him to do bad things, to do the extreme when he didn’t have to. They were  _ safe  _ (are you, you silly silly Monster?) Jaws didn’t want to see the world as a threat anymore.

“The damn notes are a lifesaver,” really. Jaws can really only imagine what it’d be like without them; scared, angry, frothing at the mouth like some  _ beast  _ without manners. He didn’t want to be any of that. “C’mon, c’mon what good was the famine if we can’t even stuff ourselves. It’d be in poor  _ taste  _ to let it all go to waste,” He even gives a wink, when he feels more centered just to watch Sweetpea groan at the joke.  _ That _ would always be his favorite pastime.

“Yes, Yes, We Should Go Ahead,” He snickers. A  _ head, _ Sweetpea didn’t even realize. They loop their arm with his skirt swishing across the flower like one of those fancy flowers Sweetpea looked after, they make their way downstairs again. “I See You Put On Your New Gloves!”

New? He looks down, and huh, they were right. “That’s the patch we found,” it was a magnolia… Sweetpea had told him it meant… it meant, “I think… I finished a scarf?” it was perseverance. Because he persevered through everything they faced.

Sweetpea smiles, a gentle thing and Jaws wished he could help somehow with the nerves that would swamp them as soon as they left their home. “Thank You, You’ve Improved Quite A Bit. No Wounds I Hope?”

Humming he lets Sweetpea’s arm fall from his as they reach the table, waiting until they take the first bite (some things would never change. They could have all the food in the world and he’d still make sure Sweetpea ate first) before tearing into his own, bones feeling light as he handles the knife. “None. Guess you’re a good luck charm, get my  _ head  _ on my shoulders every day. A  _ blooming  _ talent even,”

Sweetpea groans into their hand, pancakes held aloft by their fork. A win. “It’s Much Too Early For This Tomfoolery, Sans!”

“Sorry, sweets, Gotta get a _ head  _ of the game, I could even give you a  _ hand _ if you needed it.”

His grin grows wide as Sweetpea huffs, a soft lilac settling on his cheeks; first sign that something  _ great  _ is going to happen. “I Guess It Would Be A Shame To  _ Cut  _ You Off When You’ve Just Begun… Oh I Can’t Believe I’m Encouraging This!”

“Nah, pumpkin it was great!” His sibling was so  _ cool.  _ They really would indulge in his bad habit if they thought it was something he’d like. “I’d even say it was a  _ bone- _ afide masterpiece,”

No groan this time, just a soft huff of a laugh as Sweetpea drowns their pancake in syrup as a last ditch effort to hide it.

“You’re smiling,” he knows his grin is shit-eatingly wide. Hell he’d probably scare a brat with it.

“I Know,” they frown, that embarrassed lilac not going away even as they press their hands to their cheeks. “I Hate It! I Shouldn’t Get So Distracted With Such A Good Meal… It’s Wasteful…”

He tries to keep his grin up even as his grip on the knife tightens. Right. That was… that was still a concern some days for his sibling. “Hey, c’mon Sweetpea can ya look at me?” His brow bones furrow in worry as the other skeleton pushes about their food, “buddy, I mean it, look at me for justa sec?”

It’s slow, not unlike  _ Jaws’  _ typical movements but.. it wasn’t like Sweetpea. His sibling was clumsy and enthusiastic and a little oblivious at times, but they never moved so slow before. “Hey, what’s  _ peckishing  _ you?” it gets another faltered smile, their hands going up to fix the collar of their blouse, a nervous tick.

“What… What If We Run Out Again?”  _ Faminefaminefamine his brother wasn’t eating enough. They weren’t eating enough, what if he just… chop chop chopped and hoped and prayed and lied— _ he squeezes at his tibia so hard he feels it nearly give out to help him refocus. “I… I just, Maybe We Should Be Saving More? I Know… Right Now We Have To Eat Full Meals To Get Better, But After? We Should Save And Ration, And I Can Sk—“

“Pumpkin,” He doesn’t growl, a feat he’s proud of during the moment, as he sits straight. The fog over his head lifting fully as the sheer  _ worry  _ and  _ fear  _ wafting off his sibling assaults his senses. He rests his hand near theirs, squeezing ever so gently when they take it. Even after having regular meals, their bones were so  _ brittle,  _ they hid them under clothing and dressed up in hopes that no one would see, that there’d be no questions. “We’re not going to do that,”

“But—“

He shakes his head, “Papyrus. Please listen to me, you’re not going to skip any meals, and you don’t have to worry. We keep track don't we? Of food? Of the money we get?” It took him longer with the fucking hole in his head but they did it, they sat down every month to set a budget up.

“Yes, We Do,” They fidget still, their own grip on Jaws’ hand tight with anxiety; it doesn’t hurt, not like the way Jaws could hurt them. The famine had twisted them so much. “I just… What If It Happens?” Thé again goes unsaid between them.

“How about this?” Sweetpea finally looks up at him, their eyelights shining with frustration induced tears. How long had they been dealing with this? “We can put a larger section of the budget to canned stuff? I know, I know it’s not healthy and we need strong bones, but, would it help you? If we knew that we had some just in case?”

They nod, their other hand going up to wipe at their sockets, “‘M Sorry… It’s…”

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. We said no lying any more, but… if you’re not ready to talk that’s different.” Another nod. Another squeeze at his hand, they don’t let go, “Can you finish breakfast up? If not I can save it for later?”

He watches with a careful eye as they manage a few more pieces before pushing the plate forward. Jaws has an overindulgence problem, hungry for the food, the regained magic, the  _ power  _ (to  destroy, subjugate, annihilate,  protect) that came with it; Sweetpea struggled to eat their recommended meals at all.

The doc had said it was from trauma and Jaws believed them, he just hadn’t realized it plagued them so badly still after settling in. They’d just have to take their time. His siblings' health was as important as his own.

“Can’ya handle the dishes for me, pumpkin?” They nod, fingers twiddling together as Jaws scoops up his empty plate and the cups. Sweetpea was clumsy on a good day, he didn’t want them accidentally dropping something from nerves right now; it’d be bad for them both. “Thanks, you, uh, still want to go out?”

It’s quiet for a few moments as Jaws cleans up but he doesn’t worry. Sometimes Sweetpea gets caught up in their thoughts and something to do with their hands helps the whole process. So, he puts his own attention into other things, movements not as staggered now that his soul was jolted into full power.

“I… Would Still Like To,” Humming he looks up from the tupperware he’s filling with the uneaten pancakes, giving a smile as encouragement to go on. Most people found it scary, he has fangs, a pair pointing down, another pointing up, it was why he got the nickname Jaws. But. Sweetpea. The first thing they ever said when the changes started happening was,  _ you look like those dragon monsters! It’s so cool!  _ They’d been so young then, but even now his sibling thought his smiles were nice when no one else did. “Perhaps, Just To Make Sure We Both Have Something To Do?”

The shaking is gone from their limbs, the washing not as loud as they try to get the last syrup stain off. “I think that’d be good, would you like me to grab your scarf?” Sometimes, he hopes they’ll say no; that maybe they’ll learn that the humans' opinions don’t matter for shit. Deep down though, Jaws knows it isn’t just the humans that look at them in fear.

“Yes, Please If You Wouldn’t Mind,” they dry their hands quickly, fingers rubbing absentmindedly at their mandible as Jaws hurries to come back with it. Toying with the frayed ends, Sweetpea smiles, full of warmth and affection as they wrap it around themself. “Maybe We Could Make An Extra Long One Before Winter? Share Like When We Were Little…”

  
  


“Well we  _ are  _ going out today, we can get your flowers, and I can go to the craft store? Then groceries, so nothing will go bad on our return,” Sweetpea smiles again, their glasses scrunching up as their nose bridge moves, a sure sign that they’re more at ease than earlier. With a dramatic flourish of offering his arm Jaws grins teeth on display as the other skeleton takes it with a laugh, “‘s best we get goin’ early before too many people reach the mall.”

Sweetpea taps his hand, the sleeves of their blouse hiding all the scarred bone Jaws is hyper aware of. “Let’s Walk Today, Brother… I Think It Would Do Us Both Some Good To Enjoy The Fresh Air.” Or code that they wanted a more languid day, another attempt to allow the both of them to get used to this new place, the new people. 

He nods, trying to keep the snarl that wants to take over his expression at bay (there, there you silly little mongrel) as they step out; it was… difficult to be so open around strangers, to tamper down the instinctive need to growl, to scare them away, to keep them at arm’s length. He wasn’t like Sweetpea, he couldn’t trust people as easily as them, or even wanted to forgive people, Jaws just wanted to focus on them  _ both _ , their continued safety and survival, he didn’t want to try and trust people because then they could get hurt.

They haven’t moved, Sweetpea’s other hand gently tapping at his nose bridge until he looks up, an easy expression on their face, “Let’s Go The Back Way? Through The Old Park,” he feels his spine soften up, teeth no longer bared in a scowl as his sibling leads the way. Jaws would work on it, if they wanted to really have a second chance here he’d have to. “Do You Think Anyone Would Notice If We Added A Few Nice Touches Here And There?”

His eyelight trails along the treetops a sudden pang in his soul thrumming as he catches sight of a moving creature. A bird perhaps? Maybe even a squirrel? He feels his claws twitch and his jaw ache as his attention says riveted to its position— that was a meal. A meal to feed him and Sweetpea, maybe he could even take its coat? Fasten it into something pretty, they both deserved something pretty didn’t they?— A whimper bellows out of his throat, keening and desperate as he tries to take a step, and another, and once more. Closer, closer, closer—

Something soft settles over his sockets images of poppies and carnations coming into view, twitching he inhales: lilac. “It’s This Way, Just A Few Steps More,” They squeeze his arm gently, the leaves crunching under their shoes as Jaws focuses on their voice, they gave him their scarf. They weren’t  _ hidden _ , another keen forces its way out of his throat as he scrabbles to take it off, “Shh, It's Okay, It’s Okay, No One’s Here. I’m Fine, Sans. We’re Taking A Walk Through The Park, Remember?”

Their grip stays soft as they lead him through, a soft humming blocking out any of the natural ambience of the old place. He feels the sun on his bones after a bit longer and works up the courage to tap at Sweetpea’s hand, still shaking, “‘S okay, you… you can take it back,” He listens as they hum a little more ever so slowly, slowly unwrapping the scarf from his eyes to set it back in place around their lower face. “Sorry, I should… i should have better control now.”

He just gets another smile. “You Know What The Human Doctor Said, We Have To Be Kind To Ourselves… Even When We Have Episodes. You Didn’t Hurt Anything, So, Do You Still Want To Continue?”

With a swallow he nods, squeezing at his sibling’s hand just a bit tighter than usual, still ever so careful but less steady, “I… yeah, yeah if we could, peaches. I think havin’ something to do while we’re uh, shacked up could.” he takes another breath focusing on the routine swish of Sweetpea’s skirt and the heavy thump of his own boots as they exit the park. Fuck, maybe they could just, have the grocieries delivered to the house? “I think it could help keep any  _ axe- _ cidents from happening, y’know a real  _ hunt _ of something to do.”

He gets a small tisk in response to his jokes but Sweetpea continues walking, languid and graceful and  _ proper  _ and Jaws is once again in awe of them. He might be the older sibling, the one who did and continues to take care of them, is in charge of protecting the house at night, but. Sweetpea… they… they were making so much  _ progress _ . He was proud of them, immensely so. Jaws was the go to for physical things and he was happy to do it, took pride in the fact that his younger sibling still trusted him to them both safe and warm and feed, even if sometimes it took him a little longer. Even if he forgot, or had episodes, or acted out of turn some times; Sweetpea still  _ trusted  _ him. 

Jaws was the one who could deal with all the physical stuff… Sweetpea. They were so,  _ so  _ good at the mental. The both of them had issues they hadn’t needed to go to a doctor to understand that they were a special kind of fucked up because of where they were from, but Sweetpea was doing so well. They had bad days too, but they always seemed to bounce back and be stronger because of it. They were always a caretaker, even underground— Jaws is certain that they can’t help it and the doc had said the same (and he’d been so  _ angry _ when they said that could be a bad thing at first. Because Sweetpea was  _ amazing  _ in his eyes, strong and compassionate and a little oblivious sometimes but they were  _ amazing _ ; and then the doc had explained. And now they were trying to get Sweetpea to focus on themself a little more)— sneaking food to kids and trying to give up food to monsters that weren’t grateful.

So. Jaws shouldered the physical when he could and he was trying to help shoulder some of Sweetpea’s problems when they wanted to share because they had done that for him for years. Another tap at his hand brings him out of his thoughts, and he manages a gentler smile even while they’re surrounded by humans that make his magic sing, “whatcha thinking about getting this time, sweets?” They hum, their arm never leaving his; a grounding action he knows now, one for them both to feel safe when dealing with the unknown.

“Lily Of The Valley,” They start, movements slower, more controlled to make sure their scarf doesn’t move an inch nor that their bones show anything. They grab a few seed pouches with the reverence of one someone in love; because they did. Sweetpea loved flowers, a rarity in the underground they both wanted to decorate their home (their  _ safesafesafe  _ home filled with the things they loved so that they could grow to with those things; ever so slowly as they take the time they need, stuff themselves with love like a well cared for rose, or poppy, or lily) in a way that made it a haven. The basket (When had they grabbed that?) hanging from his other hand sways as the seeds are dropped in. “a lotus or two for that pond we have in the back? And some sunflowers, so that we can see the sun even when it disappears,” 

“Sounds lovely,” because it did. Their home was going to be filled with beautiful things,  _ gentle _ things,  _ fragile  _ things. Because the both of them were gentle and fragile in their own ways; if they could care for these wondrous little things that relied on care and love, then well, little by little they could do the same themselves. Care and love. Love and care. Gentleness and fragility in even the most monstrous of appearances. “May i buy one too?”

He feels Sweetpea squeeze his hand, a warm gleam in their sockets, “Of Course. I Think It Would Be Wonderful For You To Have Your Own Flower,” Blinking he gives a smile of his own, rubbing his thumb over the plates of each flowers name, stalling at one, “That’s A Snowdrop—” Like snowdin, toxic and beautiful all in one for different reasons, his lifts the bulb up with a careful hand as he places it in their basket. “It Means Hope Or Consolation, I Think It’s Perfect. Want Another?”

Jaws finds himself shaking his head and an odd calm settling over him even as they're surrounded by threats, maybe this would do him good. “No… this one is…” He thinks for a moment, words bouncing through his mind as he squints down at it, “It makes me think of home.”

Another squeeze at his hand this one warm as Sweetpea’s very core brightens under their blouse (they never could hide it anymore; the fragile, scarred, beautiful thing. But that was okay, Jaws would help protect it when Sweetpea couldn’t) a stunning green accompanying their walk to the register, “Go On, This One Is Nice. They’re Like Me,”  _ they’re  _ his shoulders sag, he didn’t have to check them. That was… good.

Awkwardly clearing his throat he gingerly sets the basket at the counter, his smile coming out lopsided and a little nervous, ‘um, g’morning?” He feels Sweetpea smile down at him, another encouraging squeeze at his hand. “We uh, wanted to plant some of yer flowers but unfortunately we haven’t  _ botany _ ,” because yup. Nerves of steel untangled into puns and awkwardness as soon as he was out in public. 

They huff, “y’know puns are really just  _ seeds  _ for conflict,” His mouth twitches, a simple thing and he still didn’t really trust them but a pun was a pun and he could appreciate that, “Names Nic, and here at  _ Gardenia n’ Roses _ . I su-posies you want this to take root quickly?” They wink at Sweetpea, and may be before he’d get defensive. Worry that they were going to do something untoward or try and trick his little sibling, but when he hears that same tisk he gets for his puns, he finds himself unable to be anything but calm; this was a comrade of the greatest kind. 

“If yer certain they’re ready to  _ rose  _ to the occasion,” his hand barely shakes as he swipes the card set in his name and is decorated with some little skulls and crossbones. 

“By my tulips I’m telling the truth.” They separate the seeds into a different package, each styled after the flower they’ve bought. “You have a  _ Galanthus  _ day!”

He shakes when they exit, but it isn’t bad nerves. “I Can’t Believe You Made Your First Human Friend Using  _ Puns!” _ a chuckle erupts from his chest as they continue to walk through the mall. “Honestly, I Told You That The Humans Would Love You!”

“Heh, guess i really  _ grew  _ on them,” He beams when he gets a startled laugh disguised as a groan from the taller skeleton. He was doing better. “You ready to get  _ cotton  _ in the sewing aisle?”

He watches as Sweetpea summons their eyelights just to roll them, a heavy warmth in their gaze even as they judge his jokes. “Of Course, Brother. Enough For A Large Scarf, Yes?”

“Mmhm,” it’s little more than a hum as he closes his eyes to the world, grip secure on Sweetpea’s arm as he breathes. In. out. In. out. He was doing good, he was ignoring all the bad (disgusting, wretched, horrid) looks directed in their direction. His temper was well controlled, he hadn’t looked at anything as food. “Big ‘nough for the two of us. Just like ya said, pumpkin.”

He feels the beam they direct at his head more than he sees it, embracing the calm as they make their way to the store. It’s a familiar place, ran by a rabbit monster, who despite what she said  _ did  _ give discounts to monsters even if you didn’t notice. Jaws wouldn’t consider it a safe haven per se, but it was an area of the city that he didn’t feel unease in. “What pattern do’ya want me to use?”

Leading his younger sibling to the patterned fabric section he piles a few things over their arms. It wasn’t for the scarf but… Jaws liked to collect them; fabrics that he thought Sweetpea would like as clothing, patterns and patches that Jaws wanted to add to his own things. Nice things. Things that they could wear and have and not have to be worried about their defense (even though he would. Would merge his magic in the fabric to give a tiny little boost of protection).

Sweetpea rubs a snowflake patterned cotton selection between their fingers, “This One? It’s… Pretty, And We Have Other Snowflake Patterned Things At Home?”

He grabs it before they can change their mind, “‘s perfect, maybe we could press some flowers? And add to it, make it a real  _ wreath  _ of an item.” There’s no groan this time, just a happy smile just barely visible over the top of their scarf as Sweetpea nods, their shoulders back and comfortable. “You’d like that huh? Let’s head back then, we can uh, order groceries when we get back, you can pick ‘em this time,”

* * *

He doesn’t know what it is about knitting, but the various actions took him no time at all. His head didn’t ache when he worked nor did he need a few moments to concentrate on what he was doing or  _ how  _ he was doing it. Jaws just could, with full rhyme and rhythm and no worries at all.

Knitting had been an old hobby. One he started up as a baby bones before… before all the… chaos (the starving, the fighting, the  _ tyranny _ ) had taken root. It was a hobby when he was young and stubborn and had hopes so large that they burst on the regular, but he kept on. Then, Papyrus, his Sweetpea had joined the family (the cursed thing, Gaster was a real  _ monster  _ the one that taught him how to Be One. Taught him how to fight, to hunt, to  _ consume _ had believed that he’d consume his little sibling for power; jokes on the old man. He’d never have any control anymore and Sweetpea didn’t remember him) and that hobby turned into a safe way to actually  _ be  _ an older brother. The famine had not started when he was young, but the fighting had. For the longest time, Jaws hadn’t trusted himself to handle the other skeleton with care.

Looking up as he hears Sweetpea start to hum, a ballad of some sort, it was soft. Pretty. Very much like Sweetpea. They were tending to the flowers planted in their living room, pops of colors everywhere that made their home feel more open,  _ alive _ . Maybe he could knit a rose brooch for them next?

He remembers the first flower they discovered together, well, no. It wasn’t a flower it was… a book. Sweetpea had fallen in love with it, babbling all the while in their broken little speech asking if he would,  _ read please, want read!  _ And that was the first time Jaws had trusted himself to actually cradle the tiny monster. He’d been a large monster, even before the famine twisted him into something new and Sweetpea had always been so  _ thin _ , like a little bird. They’d sat in a little cave in Waterfall surrounded by glowing mushrooms and Jaws had read what he could.

It was a simpler time, when he didn’t have to worry about bringing home food, about the never ending  _ pain  _ in his soul and the fucking  _ pain  _ in his skull because of the fish-bitch (Sweetpea and her had been friends and he  _ liedliedlied told them it was a game. They were playing tag,  _ he said,  _ you can’t let her catch you or you’d be it  _ he said. Had done it to keep Payrus safe) and the lying. He didn’t have to lie now, had come clean so long ago when the guilt had nearly ate him up in its entirety. 

He sets the scarf aside, making a tiny note on the stickies Sweetpea had bought him ages ago about where he left off. Digging through the pile of fabrics at his feet he picks up a pastel pink yarn, working on the rose seemed better right now, maybe he could turn it into a bag instead? Oh, well he’d figure it out as he went.

Things were better now (They didn’t have to worry as much; oh you really think?) of course he was waiting on a chance to get a job, he still didn’t like the idea of leaving Sweetpea alone, but if he could earn some extra money they could enjoy more things. Things they hadn’t been able to afford. And now, Sweetpea had all the flowers in the world that they could want. Their home  _ felt _ like a home was supposed to and he would even venture to say that they were happier up here.

‘Hey, Sans,” Because even now Sweetpea didn’t like to use the nickname unless they had to. Because Sans was their brother no matter what the  _ others  _ had said. Humming Jaws inclines his head to signal that he’s listening, even as he works efficiently (it was going to be a bag) on making something he was sure they’d like. “We Sure Do Have A Lot Of Leaves Outside Now…”

He perks up, needles stiling. Were they… insinuating what he thought they were? A smile creeps across his face as he stands, “yup, would be a damn shame if we  _ leafed  _ it alone,” It really had been such a long time since they did something so  _ carefree _ . “Gourd, really can’t be  _ hay- _ tin all the colors,”

Before he’s even finished picking up the two cups of cocoa that his sibling made a little earlier he hears them whoop and then the tell-tale sound of crunching leaves as they bellow with laughter. Smile on his face Jaws rests against the open door needles still in hand as he watches Sweetpea rake and jump in the privacy of their backyard. He couldn’t wait for a better winter. They could make snow sculptures again. 

Their laughter continues to ring in the air even after the sun starts its usual descent and their yard has been turned into a beautiful mess. Cocoa is all cold as it sits next to Jaws. Their hands throw up a few more leaves before they finally deign to sit up, skirt all smudged with grass and leaves in their eyes and on their glasses, “You look like a fuckin’ mess, pumpkin,” and yet still Jaws is laughing with them, content with the day.

They scramble up onto the porch, a lazy attempt at swiping the leaves and dirt off of them as they go, knees knocking together as they come to a halt a little ways away from him, looking brighter than the biggest star in the sky. “Hey,” They even have a goofy grin after taking a sip of their cold fucking cocoa.

Huffing he flicks their nose, as careful as ever, “Hey, you done bein’ a hooligan?”

“Never!” He figured. As Sweet as Sweetpea was they still had a streak of being out and a little wild when it came to abrupt decisions. It was one of the greatest things about his little sibling. They lay out flat, hands tucked under their jaw, “I’ve Been Thinking,”

Raising his brow bones he sets his needles aside for just a moment. “‘Bout what, spice?”

They hum, legs swinging back in force as their skull scrunches up in thought. He knew where this was going, and he definitely didn’t like it, “I Know, We’re Not The… Only One’s Here—”

“ _ No,” _ he doesn’t mean to snap (don’t you?) and takes a deep breath as soon as he does, fingers curling tight and away from anything that he might break… he was trying with his temper, but they just… they made him  _ boil _ , he didn’t fucking like the way they looked  _ them _ as if they were  _ wrong.  _ Jaws especially didn’t like the way they had looked at Sweetpea,  _ his  _ sibling,  _ his _ closest friend and confident,  _ his  _ charge. It wasn’t Jaws’ fucking fault that they  _ lost  _ theirs. He doesn’t flinch when Sweetpea reaches out for his hand, cradling it in their own (so thin he could snap it like a tw— he didn’t want to hurt them. Why was he such a Monster? All he wanted to do was keep them  _ alive) _ , “I don’t like the way they treat you,”

Because Jaws didn’t give a fuck what they thought of him. They were all the same. All twisted in their own ways. All fucking broken and in need of fixing. Jaws was  _ trying _ they fucking weren’t and he didn’t trust any of them as far as he could throw them. 

“Brother, Please,” He keeps his head tilted down, he’s been petulant and childish; but he didn’t want to  _ share _ . Sweetpea was his sibling, they shouldn’t have to, to clean up others messes, or take on  _ more  _ burdens because.. Because (he was scared. Jaws was scared that he wouldn’t be able to put him back together in case it was too much and then they’d both be alone) he knew they would take advantage of them. “Just One Meeting, Just To Try. They deserve Second Chances Too Don’t They?”

“Not… not all of them at once,” Jaws would go fucking insane if all of them were in the same room as Sweetpea and himself. The group therapy was already terrible. “And... and i pick?” He knows it comes out wobbly, but Jaws needs some form of control over this. 

Sweetpea smiles, and he feels the Monster snarl at it’s cage, they still need time.  _ He  _ still needed time when it came to interacting with people so familiar yet different, Jaws didn’t trust them, doubted he’d ever really be able to. If they did anything to harm him or more importantly  _ Sweetpea _ he was going to tear them apart. “Hey, Hey, Deep Breathes… That’s It,” He hunches into their shoulder a strangled sort of noise in his throat as he holds them tight, fearing that they’ll give out and disappear under his hold. “”M Not Going Anywhere, Sans. I Promise… We’re In This Together Remember?”

It’s a pitiful whimper as he nods, ignoring the hissing in his head of the things that could go  _ wrong _ because they were in this together. They had promised to look out for one another and that was the one promise they’d always keep. “There We Go, Come On. Let’s Make Your Notes For Tomorrow Okay?”

He nods again, a jerky, jittery thing as he refuses to let go of Sweetpea’s sleeve, only able to watch for the moment as they both settle at the table, flower shaped notes being torn off one by one as Sweetpea recounts what they write, “We Live In New Home. This Is Our New Place, The Humans Here Won’t Hurt Us, And We Don’t Hurt Them,” He slumps a little, head tucked into his arm as he leans against the table. “We Don’t Have To Hunt For Food Anymore,”

“Groceries,” He mumbles, watching as Sweetpea smiles at him again. 

“Right. We’ll Either Order Groceries In The Morning, Or Go After Your Appointment?” They write it carefully, magic inked into each and every letter so that Jaws will recognize it’s them. “You Have An Appointment At One In The Afternoon, I Usually Walk You There And Speak With My Own Therapist At The Same Time.”

And they continue, listing the whole schedule for tomorrow just in case Jaws needs it. His sockets drooping as he listens to Sweetpea write out their grocery list next. Section by section they go, voice a nice hum as Jaws calms down from his earlier episode, content to just listen and watch, with an occasional message.

“‘M proud of you,” It’s a quiet thing. Long after they'd finished their notes, Sweetpea had started to put away laundry, and reorganized their kitchen. At some point even their Tv was turned on, some show about flower arrangements and the many different meanings flowers could have. A very Sweetpea like show. “I know that i don’t.. Y’know say it a lot but ‘m real proud of ya,” He’s not sure if it’s from the exhaustion of the day or the fact that he hadn’t had an actual successful night of sleep for a week or so now that’s making him so sappy but that smile is worth it.

They pat his skull softly, like a flower petal falling into the pond, “I Know. I’m Very Proud Of You Too… I Think That This Being Kinder To Ourselves Is Going To Be Good For Us,” He just hums, holding out his hand, a kind of purr coming out of him when they take it, easing onto the couch next to him (when had they moved there?), “You Really Are Just A Big Teddy Bear, Brother,” It’s a huff, fond as ever as Sweetpea grabs the blanket on the back of the couch. “You’ll Try to Get Some Actual Sleep Tonight Won’t You, You Lazybones?”

He doesn’t answer verbally, just snuffles at the blanket, his grip easy and soft as he listens to Sweetpea pitter patter about the house doing their late night ritual. He was a bad Monster, he knew that, but Jaws also knew that Sweetpea believed in him.... Tired as he is right now he knew they were right. He might not like the others, but they deserved a second chance just like they did. 

“Good Night, Sans,” He feels one last pat on his skull before he slips into the never ending lake that is his dreams. For once, filled with no nightmares; just a valley of snowdrops and lilacs overlooking a town, the sun low set in the sky at the perfect angle to feel warm and welcomed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look no shitposts (for once). I felt the need to explain some things that some of you may or may not have caught onto, and a just in general ramble. 
> 
> Sweetpea is implied to have been assaulted in the past and Jaws has forgotten who exactly has done it. It'll be discussed in a later work as a write, but forgetting is very much a way the mind deals with trauma and it works as a mechanism to keep the both of them safe. Secondly, A lot of things i write are about trauma recovery, because i don't see it very often so as a heads up for this series there's going to be quite a lot of it. I don't intent to use jargon because that just... alienates a ton and at times difficult to explain but the lads are a bit fucked up in every universe and these are meant to try and explore how their recovery would go. That's all!


End file.
